Randall's Revenge
by Engineer Jess
Summary: Randall Boggs is out there in the human world and wants to get back to Monstropolis... to make a revenge on Sulley, Mike and co. [Incomplete and won't be continued.]
1. The lurker of the murky lanes

**Author's note: I repaired and reposted this chapter after seeing the film the second time. I corrected some mistakes that were visible. I hope it's better now. And thanks for those who had reviewed this so far, thanks for ideas, I got a plain storyline in mind, now.**

**Randall's Revenge**

 The city was quiet. It was the deepest night, no pedestrians or cars cruised on the streets of the downtown. A light autumn rain wet the black pavement and made it reflect the pale natrium lamps that glowed upon the lanes and roads. One murky lane was similar to all others, except that there, in the shadows, lurked some kind of an odd form of life. It was not a beggar nor a hobo, but something slimy, swarming, which was not out of this world. It was more like a chameleon, its big and sharp teeth flashing in the beam of the nearest lamp. Something malicious, something ferocious was this creature, yet not very mighty in size. Someone might have measured it being a bit taller than a foam extinguisher, if that someone would have dared to approach the oddity.

 What was this alien? What was it doing in an abandoned lane? It was not an exotic animal that had fled the local zoo. Nor it was a snake that hid in the sewers. It was not even IT, it was _he, a man, a chameleon man named Randall Boggs. Originally from the eleventh dimension, from a place called Monstropolis._

 Soon a year had passed since the mainly unfortunate happenings, from his point of view. He had been a promising scarer, yet competing with this overlucky worker called James B. Sullivan. The top scarer… hah! _He was the one that should have had that prefix! He knew perfectly his own talents; he was the one that had really made chills go along the spines of those nasty things called children. At least that one little girl whose presence had later destroyed his life. He was banished, left to this strange and cold world of humans, never be allowed to return the home he had. That night he was caught in this 'wrong place', as he had the habit to call it, he had found himself in some trailer, some kind of a human lodging. This nasty woman in shabby clothes, as shoddy as the whole place, had surprised him for the same second he was kicked out of the portal. She had screamed like a fool, grapped a shovel and hit him time after another. Their unruly brat that lived there, too, had agitated the 'mom' to slaughter the unlucky monster. Luckily Randall had found a hole to get out of that terrible place. Long after that had he limped and walked head bowed, it was the worst beat-up he had ever experienced._

A year… that's a long time, at least in this nook he used to live, now. The creature only wandered around in the nighttime, since he could not predispose himself to the eyes of human beings. No. Impossible. His life was totally impossible. And what he felt now in his inners, it was only sheer hate, pure feelings of revenge towards everybody that had ever been around him. James P. Sullivan… with a walking eyeball called Mike Wazowski… idiots.  And… what was that pretty receptionist that had worked in Monsters Incorporated? Celia… she had had something going on with that green pupillary. Bah… what a choice, she should have chosen him, the top scarer… In Randall's mind was only the image of himself, as the perfect being, who had been downgraded to this kind of non-existent hider. He, Randall Boggs… sneaking along dingy lanes in the nighttime, finding some trash to eat. He was nothing any longer. Lower than dirt. And that was because… well, because of those do-gooders that didn't allow him to turn Monsters Incorporated into a gold mine with his great invention! Such fools!

 The last months Randall had intrigued a plot for to get out of this misery. How to get back to Monster World! It seemed so easy, he would practically only need to search for a suitable house, get into the closet of the children's room and wait… until someone of those from the eleventh dimension would come to do his or hers job. But it was not that easy, practically. He had tried it a couple of times, only ending up to the street beaten up with a floor brush or relevant. Once he had to hide and flee a whole day because of some dog-napper that was called to get him. His colour-changing skills were actually not quite efficient in use, here, since this world and its physical laws didn't allow him to wear his extraordinary disguise quite long. That's why there was the unfortunate visibility, he was spotted almost every time. 

That was his life. But one day, one day he would surely be back there in his former home and have his revenge… to those who did this infernal trick to him.

----

"Ready?"

"Ready!"

Sulley prepared himself for his night job. A violet door was put in the scaffold and Mike adjusted the empty energy bottles beside it.

"Okay, when I put the thumbs up for ya, it's the gig!" the green creature winked.

"Right", Sulley smiled back. He should get good laughs from the kids he was going to visit tonight.

"Okay, the light's up, get, set, go!" Mike yelled and the door opened.

With somewhat a rambling mind, James P. Sullivan stepped into the closet and twisted the doorknob. Strange. He felt odd. His job was a lot more nicer nowadays, as it was not the scaring thing any more, but making the kids cry for joy. But in every case, he seemed a bit cautious tonight, as if there was a distant thundercloud coming upon his head.

 Sulley was actually the head of Monster's Incorporated, so he should not have worked at all on the laugh floor, formerly known as the scare floor. But he liked visiting kids so much, that he took initiative to do the front job, too. In his heart he was a tender monster, did not want to see little sweet toddlers cry, but tittering and clapping their tiny hands. 

 The room he entered was apparently a girl's bedroom. Something similar as Boo's… heh, the wee adorable girl. There was a human at her age, indeed, puffing in a cute bed, at the opposite wall. The big monster carefully stepped over some toys that lied on the floor, for not to break them. "A cloth cowgirl and a plastic space man… this girl must have a big brother with whom she has played today, rarely such a sweet li'l gal has that kind of heavy space toys as her playthings", Sulley laughed to himself.

 Finally he came to the girl's bed that was guarded by a night lamp, where a gentle porcelain shepherdess stood beside it. Sulley checked out a bag he had with him, threw forth a wig with golden locks, blew some balloons and put them to hang from his horns and lastly took a hula-hula band in his hand. He was ready for the showtime.

 The kid tugged in the bed woke up, gaped at the hopping and singing Sulley for a while, then burst into giggles and finally into a horse-laugh. The energy bottles beyond the dimension border were soon full and Sulley had gathered the top balance of the day. When he returned his accessories on, he got similar guffaws from the workers of Monsters Incorporated that were on that moment on the work ground.


	2. Now it's MY time...

 Life in Monstropolis was happy as ever. The energy crisis had been avoided because of the new means to produce electricity. Back in Monsters Incorporated, no one claimed or whined about the work any longer, because it was relaxing and amusing at the same time. Although, it was rumoured that it caused workaholism to some monster beings.

 Next day would be a holiday. Of course, bogeys needed free time too, like human beings. They had their families, kids, friends and other things they wanted to share their time with. Towards the end of the day, Mike Wazowski had not been an active member of the work ground, any more, but kept hanging at the reception, babbling to his girlfriend. He had remarkable plans concerning the weekend.

"Well, li'l Shmoopsiepoo, howdabout a pique-nique, tomorrow…? Huh?" the green eyeball ogled Celia.

She leaned over the counter, as sugary expression on her face, and did not even notice the phone that had been ringing maybe 5 minutes in row, already. "A pique-nique? Ooh! Did you invent that just for me…?"

"What would you say going to the… Kraken Pond? There's the nice tiny wee puny boscage where that white-red-checkered linen can be put onto the soft grass and eat some clod-cookies and hear the krakens holler sweetly when they dive up from the pond… huh, Smoochie?"

"Oh, Googly Bear… that would be wonderful…" Celia purred and batted her eye.

Mike reached out himself over the counter to give his Honey a kiss. 

But a nauseous voice interrupted his love affair: "Is your paper work done? I'm expecting the monthly roar-laugh report from you in two hours."

Wazowski almost jumped in the air for startle. Roz stood rigid right behind him, with her usual austere face.

"Oh, oh, right, working with it, I was just going to get the papers, just a blink, getting it…" he got into a real panic. Of course, knowing his lazy nature, he had not written half a letter of the report. "I'll be riiii-ight back, wait for me, Smoochie, I'm driving you home tonight!" he gave the last yell to Celia and bolted towards his office. Wazowski was now in a position that almost equalled the post of a vice president. Therefore, he _should do his job._

"And, would you kindly answer the call? The phone has been ringing almost ten minutes. It can be important." Roz pointed out to the receptionist, who still seemed to be somewhere beyond infinity, in her daydreams. Wincing she gripped the receiver and shook the castles in Spain away.

And Mike… he would blink a note to one of his hard-working employees and get the frustrating paper work done that way.

-------Human World, next day---------

 The streets of the city started to quiet down, gradually. The stores closed their doors and a lonely Pizza Planet deliveryman whizzed with his chipped car towards the downtown. The whole Tri-County area prepared to the beginning dreams of the night. The air was warm and full of freshness after the rain of yesterday. No wind brushed the trees, no clouds wandered over the ground. Only the pale sickle of the raising moon animated the sky.

One family among the others, living in the suburbs, similarly got ready for the resting hours. A cosy single-family house was lit calmly, the atmosphere filled with sleepy yawns of a little girl and her brother. The mother of the family was on the moment in the girl's room, tugging the tiny cutie with golden locks, under her blankets.

"But Mom… I still want to play…" the drowsy voice of the toddler reached the mother.

She patted the head of her daughter, kissing her cheek. "Not now, Molly. Your big brother may still stay awake because he has homework to do for the school. But you have sweet dreams, now. It'll be an exciting day tomorrow at the kindergarten."

"Okay, mum. I see a nice dream about a big, friendly teddy bear that comes from the closet to make circus tricks!" the girl tittered with bright eyes when her parent switched off the lights. Her mother smiled lightly after getting to the downstairs. "Kids…"

 Nevertheless, in the bushes, outside the house, two gleaming eyes stared at the windows that were getting dark one by one.

"This is it. If I have travelled here to the suburbs in vain… no, I will not give up. This house seems promising… I just have to get in and wait…" Then, a shadow swarmed away from the shelter of the leaves, heading to the front yard.

"Davis…" the shadowy figure read the text of the mailbox. "Whatever. The only thing this family exists here for, is that they will help me get back to where I belong to!"

Suddenly a low snarl approached the ears of the lurker. It winced after seeing a dog in the side yard, jerking the rope with which it was attached to the dog house.

"Stupid animal… now it's waking up the whole neighbourhood!" the figure cursed and hopped behind the plant that was right beside the front door. Soon the door clacked open as a woman emerged to see what the problem was. The barks and snarls of the family dog had been that loud that she had understood it better to come out and see, what was wrong.

"Bah… the dog has seen a cat, again. Or some rodents scurry across the yard… mickey mice…" the lady talked to herself after checking out the situation. Shaking her head tiredly, she slammed the door shut after her, then heading to her bedroom, which was situated straight to the right.

 What Mrs. Davis did not notice, was, that in her household was an unwanted guest. Beside the door, behind a large yucca palm, lied low the bogy that had wanted so badly to get in. Randall Boggs, who else. Rubbing his hands together rather gratified, the visitor began to study the new environment.

"Now… all I need is to find the room of some brat and try to wait quiet. Sooner or later, hopingly this night, someone of those idiots of Monsters Incorporated opens the portal… and badda bing, bingo!"

Randall sniffed the rooms of the downstairs, then comprehended that the possible children would have their places upper there. A quick spurt along the stairs… and the light work was granted. Two doors to two children's rooms. The chameleon opened slightly the first one that leaded to the chamber of the big brother. But that was a disappointment to him.

"No closet! Not a dratted closet! What kind of a million times dratted room is that where is no closet? Double drats!"

Therefore, there was then left the possibility to try the other one. His eyes, used to the dark, comprehended soon that this was a direct hit. 

"Ha! A girl's room… and there is _the doorway, as where it always should be!" he sniggered and with a rapid movement, slinked under her bed. There… no hinder seemed to wait for him, maybe he would make his success this time._

----------

Back in Monster's Incorporated, the laugh floor was silent. The holiday had quieted down the work ground, all the employers happily spending their time with their families or friends. But the energy factory was not completely empty. James P. Sullivan, the chairman, hadn't left his place. The whole morning he had done overwork, calculations and statistics about the energy produce of the current year. The net was incredibly promising. Therefore, there might be a way to promise salary increases to the diligent workers.

 It should have been the time to go home, for Sulley, too. But now he clumped along the laugh floor, leering complacent at the places. It was silent like in a graveyard, but this factory was like a home to him, the taciturn mood of the rooms only making him happier. Everything was in order, handled in merry ways. The sick days and delays were rare things here; unlike they had been under the scream energy period. Some more fearful workers had hid in the nooks, faked being fatally ill and got the rest of the day free. But now… no need for fear, no need for scares.

"Good work, good work…" was the proud thought of Sulley. He truly reflected the whole function of the factory with sheer pride.

 As he watched there the empty corners, the door scaffolds and the sun that cast its last beams through the windows, an idea popped into his mind. What if he would do some extra job, just go to laugh a couple of kids and then get back to his apartment? He just loved that, seeing the charming smiles of the tots he would meet. Boo would be one of his visits, then maybe that irresistible golden-haired girl he had met yesterday, making her nearly cry for joy with that hula dance.

"Why not?" he hummed and pressed a button on the wall. Soon a door whizzed along the rail in the highnesses, then letting it land to its stand. Sulley adjusted some energy bottles beside it, then went to get his laugh equipment. What would he do this time? Dress himself up to an oversized chicken and run around the room, pretending that he would have a moulting? A funny idea. Why not to put a fish bowl over his head, too? Chuckling he dressed up to his costume and opened the portal.

 But… something strange was there, this nasty voice in his mind that kept claiming that he should just go home and leave the whole work. The distant thundercloud that had been upon his head, yesterday, had returned. Nevertheless, he ignored it, just thinking the happy faces of the kids.

 Randall had lied a few hours under the bed of Molly Davis. In his dog-sleep, he heard the closet door keep a tiny creak and instantly was in the state of awareness. A disgusting smile took the corners of his mouth up.

"Now it's my time."  

…more to come… Comments? Flame as much as you want.


	3. Returning home

The portal had unfolded. Randall had no much time to structinize who was the user of it, though. Rapidly he changed his skin colour and slipped along the wall towards the closet, when he saw the big creature getting closer the girl's bed.

"That moron is back against me… won't see the door opening. Careful… there may be workers on the scare floor…" he grimaced in his invisible form, slightly slipping into the dimension wormhole. A gap of few inches was enough for his snake-like body to creep through the gateway.

 For his surprise, the work ground beyond there was empty. The door, which he had entered, was the only one jutting in its scaffold. Glancing quickly around, he gasped in terror after seeing the changes the year had brought along.

"W-What is this place…?" he exhaled, eyes wide open. Spinning around and around, he could not comprehend at all, what had the alterations been.

"Is this supposed to be some kind of _a scare floor?" He tapped to one of the assistant tables to pick up a pair of raillery implements. "What is this… __who…" Leering over his shoulder, he attached his regard to the big end wall._

"LAUGH FLOOR?" he panted. "_Laugh floor? What has happened to the scream energy? Has this place been turned to some idiotic titter factory?"_

Of course, Randall could not know the modifications that were done when he had been the slave of the Human World. How could he have been aware of the resurrection of Monsters Incorporated since old Waternoose was arrested?

Horrified he was, comprehending the new winds. Wasn't _he once supposed to bring the new glory to the energy fields, with his superb invention? And now… everything had turned upside down._

 Suddenly Randall heard noises coming from the portal, through which he had just entered his ancient home. In a breeze, he turned invisible against the dark wall. His eyes narrowed with hatred when he understood who had just scrambled out of the door.

"James P. Sullivan…" he muttered, clenching his fists. "What is _his part here, nowadays? Is __he behind this impossible idea to bring energy with laughters?"_

Humming there content to the night's work, the big, hairy creature detached the energy bottle from its scaffold, pushing then the button that took the door back to its stock. In his all innocence, he did not have the slightest clue that there was this external spectator. Although… the thundercloud remained upon his head, buzzing his ears with the strange melody that there was something wrong…

As Sulley left the laugh floor, Randall without a sound followed him along the corridors.

"I'm finishing off that moron, who destroyed me and my glory…" the chameleon murmured to himself, searching for an appropriate object with his eyes "…something heavy for to bunch that oversized teddy bear…" But, second thoughts came into his mind. What if he would not hurry that much, but observe at first, what had happened here during his non-attendance?

"That's a plan… but watch your steps, hair carpet…" he spat after Sulley, who was preparing to go home.

---------------

The night had fallen. The foreigner of the Human World has thus finally returned home, from his long journey in misery. Promenading there in the shaded corridors of the laugh energy factory, he felt nothing but animosity and emotions of vengeance.

"What has happened here? Monsters Incorporated is not the same as it used to be, any longer…" 

Slightly Randall let his three-fingered hand skim the wall. "So much has changed during my absence. Where is the splendour of scaring…? Monsters aren't here for to make irritating kids laugh, no… This is ridiculous, impossible to understand…"

 When the dawn illuminated the sky, the miscreant had come up with a waterproof plan. At first, he would search for an assistant, someone who was enough stupid to believe his lies he was going to feed to that poor fellow. "I'm surely going to make him trust that my intentions are 'innocent', that I was cursed with a wrong justice… when I was kicked out of here. And that I've now returned to help all the poor monster beings…"

 As the workers of the factory began to wriggle and lumber in on the morning hours, Randall tuned his chameleon skills to their best point, staying like a ghost in the background, watching every move of the population. He found out Sulley's current post as the leader of the company, as well as Mike's responsibilities. The envy in him grew like a bonfire made of dry wood, making him wish the worst possible destiny to his ex-co-workers. Among this all, he still had a place where he lurked a bit longer, letting his vision rest in monster beauty.

"Celia… she is as beautiful as ever…" Randall stared at the receptionist with a sparkle in his eye. "Only that she has done such a poor choice by crawling mushy after that green idiot… but, she'll see after some time that there are facilities for better choices, like me…"

Wiping now these conceptions away from mind for a while, Boggs prepared to search for a suitable henchman.  

 In a lonely corridor, wing Z, walked somewhat a simple-minded worker. He pushed a flivver that was loaded with miré-coffee, musty doughnuts, eye scream, all that a gourmet-specialist bogey would adore. However, his little buffet was jerked aside when an invisible hand grapped it and its owner behind the corner. In front of the worker's scared eyes, Randall appeared from the world of masquerade.

"But… ya… ya're Randall Boggs!" the male, named Trent, gasped. He was a grey ball with three legs, the skin decorated with purple spots.

The villain was ready to start his foul play. He took a dolorous grin on his face, crossing his hands and began to whine with a falsetto tone, "Yes… from the squalors I have returned… finally to see my old home…"

The other one shook his head, wondering what was going on. "But… I thought ya were kinda… banished? Weren't ya?"

"Yes… dropped to the abysses of Styx, with falsity and injustice…" Randall let fake tears flow along his cheeks.

A few minutes he sang his opera, how he was with wrong condemnation chased to live among humans, what kind of horrors he had experienced there. And that it was a nasty plot of two certain persons, made to harm the 'innocent' chameleon. Soon Trent was crying like a waterfall to this tale, believing every quarter and half of the words.

"Sniff… that's so sad… how could Sullivan and Wazowski ever do that to ya…?" he snuffled to Boggs, who created a little nimbus over his head.

"They're filled with the forces of evilness… they were jealous to me, because I was the rising morning star of Monsters Incorporated…"

"Aww… I'm so sorry… can I be yar friend?"

For a nanosecond, Randall's mouth twisted into a malicious grin, forming instantly then again the woeful smirk.

"Oh, _you would be my friend? At least to gain one friend in this place…" he flooded his aria._

"Yes, yes!"

"Now… you go back to your work, _faithful friend… but tell your company, what kind of inequitable despots the leaders of this company are. And you know what?" the scoundrel whispered to the blue-eyed employee, "I believe they're brooding something really bad for everyone that is having his or her job over here…"_

"Sure, sir! I'll warn ev'ryone!" Trent inhaled afraid.

"But… don't mention yet, who told you all this. We'll work it out, together, when we have enough power on our side, against the evilness!" Randall wiped away his tears.

 After Trent had disappeared behind the corridor joint, Randall burst into wicked snickers. "Yes, little idiot, go on to tell your pals, what kind of demons Sullivan and his minions are… little by little, I'll turn every worker here against _you, letting you understand, what is the might of Randall Boggs… you'll face a faith worse than death… and after you are gone, MI will turn back to its normal function… with the leading of me. But first, a little sabotage, so we all get to know, what kind of __monsters you really are… Mr. Throw Rug and Ocular… hehhehheeh…"_

….to be continued…. I'm open to flames and ideas.  Tell me what you think of this fic this far. And please report bad grammar errors. 


	4. Sabotages

The next day in Monstropolis was as beautiful as ever. The monster birds croaked sweetly in the trees, the sun cast its warm beams to bless the happy citizens. The morning on the laugh floor began as usually, the doors jutting in their scaffolds and the diligent workers preparing to amuse toddlers and other wee humans.

A yellow, snail-like creature had just adjusted his joke articles in the perfect shape. His assistant slapped the "gimme fives" with his door-entering friend, wishing him all the best luck with today's labour task. So the snail opened the portal… letting a miserable, vanishing yell echo in the air after half a second. His helper was just left to stand there, staring at the open gateway to the human world.

A couple of bogeys ran to him, being as amazed. Snowflakes were coming through the open doorframes, joyfully flitting around. On the other side, there was merely nothing but emptiness. It was indeed a way to a closet, but it seemed to have leaded to an abandoned chalet. The broken sidewall of the hut was an open hole, so that the closet door headed straight down the steep cliff the wrecked shelter cabin stood on –situated on the hillside of Mount Everest.

"Oh, my goodness! W-What happened to Mr. Stanton?" a thunderstruck monster gaped at the view.

"I… I don't know!" the helper stammered, "This door was supposed to lead to the bedroom of a 5-year-old Swedish girl named Blåklocka!"

"This must have been some kind of a mistake… but how are we gonna get Stanton out of there? He's gonna freeze to dead, if he's not dead already after getting dropped down that ledge!"

"Okay! Call for the search-and-rescue party and you others, continue your works!" A voice came from behind the horrified group. "These kinds of accidents happen occasionally. We're gonna get Mr. Stanton out of there, just scatter and go back to your works, thank you!" a calm-looking office manager spread his arm-tentacles in the air.

So the tasks began once more as nothing had happened, yet shadowed by a light fear. Nevertheless, only half an hour had passed, before something peculiar happened, again. A cross between dinosaur and a carnivorous plant twisted the knob of his work-portal door… and splash! Water began to flood in through the frames, with such a power that the laugh floor started to resemble a swimming pool in a few seconds. Every monster being fell into total panic. Water came streaming in, cold, salty sea fluids.

"Help! I can't swim!" several help cries were heard. A number of bigger monsters floundered against the in-coming flow, attempting to approach the fatal door. Suddenly, something angry and scary hit against the entrance from the other side of the portal. It flashed its big teeth and unfolded its big jaws, now being merely stuck to the doorway.

"It's a shark!" someone screamed.

"Shut the door now! We're gonna drown!"

So the stronger and bigger workers wrestled against the heavy body of water. One caught the almost broken door, trying to push it close, only getting hurt. The fierce fish struggled still in front of the brave monsters, making injures more or less with its sharp fangs. After ten seconds, however, the worst danger was gone. The dimension changer was shut down by the robust hobgoblins, and no more liquids were running in.

What was this catastrophe all about? Actually, the gateway that was supposed to be another wicket to lads' sleeping chambers, leaded to a closet in a ship. Unfortunately, that vessel was lying in the bottom of the Gulf of Mexico, as a ship-wreck. So that explained well the shark encounter.

The damages on the laugh floor were a depressing view. Several of the electric devices were cut short because of the conducting fluids. Injured monsters laid here and there, some hurt because of electric shocks, some because of the malevolent leviathan, and so on. Luckily there were open sewers installed in the hall floor, otherwise the water would have had to be pumped out of the energy factory. Little by little, it vanished into the drainage, giving thus space to the first-aid group that came to heal the poor workers.

As waken up by the mess and hassle, also Mike bolted to see what on earth had happened. An employer not-so-bruised waddled from behind the busy ambulance men towards him.

"What is this? By chirping predactyls, what's the flood about? Do we need to build a Noah's Ark?" Mike gawped at the scene his eye wide open.

"T… there were wrong doors", the fatigued victim sighed, "And… as much as I remember, the work orders said they were doors specially chosen by James P. Sullivan, our big boss."

"Wait, wait, wait, wait… there must've been a mistake. This is a human accident. Sulley… umh, your employer would never do such a thing by knowingly. There must be a bug in the door-stock handling software. And that, that, that will be handled by tomorrow, sure thing, righto." Wazowski a bit nervously concluded.

While the rota turned, the secondary laugh floor was taken to use. Twenty poor bogeys had been transported to hospital to get treatment. The normal work ground was in the fingers of a hurricane, before the next day nothing could be done on it. Machines needed to be fixed, the hall needed to be cleaned.

But did the labour began any better way in the other rooms? Two doors indicated to be incorrect, again. The first one leaded to a Hollywood filming place, into a closet of a coulisse. When it was opened, a giant mechanical dinosaur attempted to storm in, hurting again a couple of members of staff. How could someone had been aware of blundering in the middle of the filmings of Jurassic Park XXVII, getting then bitten by a robot T-Rex? In addition, what the next disaster door was… it widened to some kind of a rodent farm. Tens of mice and white rats hopped in from the portal, subsequently eating the work reports and causing allergic reactions. Many asthmatic bugbears were nearly to suffocate, thus making the day's sick balance even more drastic. And in the work orders that were somehow been saved from the teeth of those hungry critters, were standing in yelling letters: 'Doors chosen specially by Mike Wazowski'.

Behind the backs, in his invisible form, Randall Boggs laughed in wicked ecstasy. He enjoyed seeing the results his first sabotage had caused.

"This begins well… and the winds of change will blow soon over Monstropolis…" he sniggered, "We will see, how the next nice things will affect to your local credibility, Misters You-Know-Who and You-Know-Who the Second… Do you know you're causing damages to your dear workers, trying to poison them… hehheh…"

So began the next day… in a certain anticipating atmosphere. But nothing significant ensued. No boilers exploded and the doors were all gently heading towards sleeping kids. So MI was lulled quickly to a calm feeling of security… until after a couple of days…

"What's for dinner, today?" a fat, horned bird asked his friend. The MI workers' refectory was as animated as always. The staff had used to good and delicious meals. Their skilled cook had served the factory for years, prospering everyone's appetites with rare delicacies. He had started his career under the times of Waternoose, of course now enjoying his post even better, under Sullivan's relaxed management.

The previously described two chums took their plates full of brown soup with some green clods swimming in it, the men licking their lips with sheer zeal towards today's lunch.

"This is said to be some kind of special food!" the bird smirked and sat at a table where four other men and women jutted with their rations.

"Yeah! The menu said it's 'Sullivan's Surprise Food', made from specially chosen ingredients", a mantis-looking creature raised his thumbs up.

"Whee! Let's taste it!" The bird began to bail the nosh down his beak.

During the eating process a light conversation about the last days' happenings raised in the air. Somehow it shifted to roll around Mike and Sulley.

"I've heard some kind of strange rumours about the leaders of this factory… that they would have done some kind of terrible crimes they're trying to hide", one at the table began a bit shyly.

"No kidding! I… kind of heard that the whole door mess was caused because of them!" another added.

"Hey, go figure. Why would they do on purpose such things to their own affairs?" the bird laughed, shovelling the soup and burping after every gulp.

"That doesn't make sense… but that's just what I heard…" one innocently declared.

The discussion went on, until one woman at the table suddenly moaned in pain. "Ooh… my stomach…"

Two seconds after that, the monster sitting next to her groaned once and fainted. The same kind of effect occurred in the near tables, getting the sizes of an avalanche phenomenon. The ones that had not yet touched the day's lunch understood the connection and threw their plates away.

"There's something in the food!" a shout warned from somewhere among the again panicking workers.

"It's putrid!"

"It's rotten!"

"There's a killer virus in it!"

"No, it's poisoned!"

A series of miscellaneous hollers agitated the tumult.

And so the unlucky hours ended… half of MI employers being hauled to get first aid to the local hospital. Food poisoning… When the jumble was studied further, no sense was built around the occurrences. The cook was interrogated, and his declarations were that he had used only normal substances in making the soup. It had been left to boil in a giant cauldron, as usual, and of course there was no one specifically controlling it, since a mechanical mixing system took the responsibility of the digestion. Nothing unusual was found from the pot. However, 'Sullivan's Surprise' had very nauseous effects on the work reliance… first the gateways to infernos and now this. The vice president and the leader of the factory could do nothing but wonder their foreheads wrinkled what this was all about. True was, that the that-time lunch was arranged by James P. Sullivan, but not mentioned to happen in a way like this. And behind the backs, the buzz went on…

As a result, it was another satisfying moment for Randall to see the effects of his second terrorist outrage. In his old 'secret chamber', where the scream extractor had once been built, he kept his quarters with Trent. The simple-minded helper of his did not even understand doing nothing wrong when following his master's directions. He had been put on the service, to add some extra spices to the soup stewpan –and after that all, to destroy all the evidences.

"Mmmhh… what a sophisticated mixture of fish liver oil, castrol oil, old boot bottoms, juicy sweaty socks, some nitro-glycerine, anchovy and boiled cabbage. Oo… and of course some soap added to bring some savoury nuance… I should get a patent to that food!" Randall sat in a chair in his corner, rubbing his hands together. "With my supreme intelligence, that was possible… and of course, the dinner was served by our loved Wazowski and Sullivan!"

Trent laughed goofily to Boggs' words.

"Did you remember to wipe away all the tracks? The contents of that pot were changed back to normal food after the neat surprise of that blue-fleece-horn-whatever-gremlin was served?" Randall took somewhat an angry expression, to make sure that the circle ended to his innocent main preys.

"Sure! Sure! I cleaned it all. And put some fresh 'wet dog'-spray to hide even the stench!"

"Perfect. Now… we shall go on with our little project."

…And more was to follow. Sudden accidents, unexpected mishaps. And somehow, with every case, the so-called indirect reason for the calamity seemed to be either Sulley or Mike. The tracks leaded to them, slowly, creepingly, every woe cankering the relations of the workers and those two staged culprits. The gossips and hollers went on… from the mouth of Trent were heard more and more horrible stories about Wazowski and Sullivan's pasts… and how they had banished this one 'guiltless' lilyliver, Randall.

One night, both the vice president and his friend were debating about the afflictions in their pent-house apartment. The men still used to live in the old house, finding it a smug bachelor flat. They would have had money now to buy a dozen of such lodges, but did not want to give in to the old habits.

However, now the examining of the displeasing events went on.

"…and did you hear what I said? I was directly accused today that I would have caused that that bundle of joke articles fell on that one fella! Did you hear what I said? Me! _ME! As if I'd cause such a thing?" Mike gesticulated around, walking nervously across the living room._

"Yes…" Sulley sighed, "I've heard similar things, too. And what I ever tried to do to hinder these strange accidents, they keep happening and happening…" He lied loosely in his armchair, merely shiftless.

"And what is worse, it's that… it's that Celia, my own Smoopsiepoo, has started to look at me with a bad eye! As if I'd done something wrong! I tell you it's not my fault! I've been honourably sitting at my paper work, pleasing Roz with well-done reports, there is n-o-t-h-i-n-g I've done wrong!" the green eyeball kept flinging his arms and bouncing around the room.

"I know, Mike, that you've done nothing wrong. There's something wrong _inside the factory… as if someone was sabotaging the laugh floor… or something."  Sulley fingered his chin._

"You mean someone's pulling levers in some secret room and trying to avenge on us?" Mike stopped his headless rush and was left to stare at his friend.

"I don't know it yet… but I suggest we find it out…"

"Yeah, just on this second. What else you think we can do but to try to find it out, Mister Genius? Of course we have to find it out. Because of us and because of everything…" Wazowski panted a bit irritated.

"I am just thinking… who would ever want something bad to us?" Sulley looked contemplating.

"Who? We're the nicest guys of Monstropolis, who would ever want to…" Mike started, but then got his jaw hit the floor because a sudden idea lamp was switched on in his brains.

"Randall Boggs?" they both blurted in unison.

…to be continued…


	5. Celia's discovery

Menacingly the pale sun woke up in the next morning. The air was full of anticipation, full of something unknown, hiking there like an invisible menace. Mike and Sulley's minds were filled with nervousness, as the looming factory buildings of Monsters Incorporated became nearer. Usually the brisk morning walk to this laugh factory had been one of the merriest moments of the day, but this time, the both chums had shadowed expressions on their faces.

"So… what do you think, Mike?" Sullivan muttered half in his own thoughts.

"Dunno, dunno, dunno. I mean, c'mon. We were yesterday discussing late about this slinky called Randall. But what are the odds that he would be there as the puppet master? How could he ever have got back? The nice stargate where we kicked him in, was put to smithereens. That way he could not possibly have come to say hello over here again." Wazowski spread indignant his arms when trotting forwards. "It can't be him! There has to be another reason for all this mess and clash!"

"But Mike… remember how we once got back to Monstropolis from Himalaya? It's not that impossible at all. Although we were banished in the wilderness, we were able to locate an appropriate door, once I found the village", Sulley sighed sadly back.

"Umm… yeah, well that's true." His friend took a more severe observation in the topic, "But just think about it! It's too much of a cliché! He just cannot pop here and plot revenge against us, that's…"

"Mike, what if we just go and see what happens today?" Sulley put his big hand on the green eyeball's shoulder, "It… it can be just plain misfortune. Maybe this all has nothing to do with Randall, maybe it has, or maybe there is really someone else breaking havoc. But let's just go there and put up some investigation. You, me, and our trusted friends. I guess we can find out the reasons."

"Yay! I've always wanted to be a detective!" the little cyclops whooped.

But the hours truly did not begin in a delightful atmosphere. As the leaders of the power plant stomped towards their offices along the corridors, they achieved only angry frowns as their prizes. No one greeted them, only those nasty goggles accompanied their steps. Behind the corners lurked all kinds of creatures that kept whispering to each other in small groups. Even a couple of hoots could be heard being shouted after the buddies, calling them with not-so-nice bynames.

"Do you hear how they caw at us, as if we were some vultures! This is getting too far, badbadbadbad… baa-ad thingy…" Wazowski poked antsy his hairy pal.

"I think we keep a big palaver today. Seemingly we have lost our positions of trust among the employees. And it's my responsibility as the chairman of this enterprise to put the pieces back together here", Sulley crumpled his brows.

"Sure, go ahead, this jigsaw puzzle has already too many unfitting pieces. We'd need a chainsaw to reshape them!"

In the lobby that leaded to the leaders' separate offices, was a guest waiting for the arrivers. This person, however, was not a foe with a tuned slingshot.

"Smoopsiepoo!" Mike's big eye widened as he saw Celia sitting in the waiting room chair. Surely he was surprised to meet her here. Their relationship had been somewhat in scales the last times, because of the workground accidents and common monstrous mistrust. Not so sweetly had this female batted her eye to her boyfriend any more, moreover there had been disbelief and suspicion shading the blue iris. And her beautiful snakey curls had used to rattle nastily as Michael had walked by. But something had occurred early this morning, that had made her re-ponder her assumptions concerning the latest monstrosities.

"Smoopsie, my oozing blossom, what is it?" Mike came rushing to her. Celia's face did not reflect any hatred towards him, but merely light fear.

"Mike? W-what's going on here?" she asked with a shaking voice.

"If I'd know, I'd tell it you immediately! I swear! But my head is as empty as a huge green balloon, no ideas, no clues, no tips, no evidence, no intimation!" Knocking his head with his knuckles, the bogey produced a hollow sound. "But… you're here! I thought you were mad at me!"

The girl bent a bit towards the shortie. "I'm sorry, Googly Bear, I was a bit prejudiced. But I really didn't know what to think about all this. But… today I came here a bit earlier than usually, because, uh… I actually thought I could return your unfinished paper work to Roz, Googly Bear. Despite that I was a bit angry at you. But you had once again left all your reports lie pell-mell on your laugh floor desk."

Mike grimaced uneasily, as he heard about his well-known flaw. Orderliness and diligence were positively not his best achievements.

"But, when I returned with the papers to the lobby, I heard there was a small chaos going on at the coffee automat. Someone had found an open bottle of nuclear waste in the big coffee container. I heard they were blaming both of you, but how come either of you could have done that? Yesterday I left the reception when you both had already gone home –or so I assume- and there was nothing wrong with the coffee automat then. And none of you could have put the radioactive thingy there this far because you had not even arrived to the factory yet! And why would you even do anything like that since you _use the same coffee automat?" she hastily clothed her news into words. _

"Phew! Glad I didn't drink that!" Mike wiped his forehead, "That would have been a _bit too strong coffee for me! Ok, yeah, we are not the culprits. Someone else has been polluting."_

Sighing Sulley took the office door keys out of his bag and snapped the lock open. "Look, I think we better keep a little personnel meeting, now. I need to hear what has been going on here." And so all the three entered his private space.

Two hours went on as the triplet contemplated everything between cave monsters and pterodactyls. Randall Boggs rose up to be the main topic. He would be the only logic reason for everything, he would assumingly be a person who wanted dark avenge, if he succeeded to return. But unsolved questions were so many. How had he come back, if then had at all? Where was he hiding, if he had caused all this? Here in the factory or someplace else? Why was there so much gossip roaming around his name? Randall this, Randall that. As Celia told, some workers were accusing Wazowski and Sullivan about a banishment crime, something that had been done against an 'innocent person'. Questions, riddles, theorems… but no replies.

It was decided that Sullivan would keep a large meeting about an hour after the lunchtime. Every employee would be asked to come there, and a voice of reason would talk. But, before that, both Mike and Celia would return to their works and try to do everything as normally as possible. Although… in such a menacing atmosphere it was not quite easy. 

------------------------

Celia was returning from her lunch hour back to the reception. Everything was foaming around her, and seemingly she experienced this as a threat also towards her. There were gollywogs that muttered that they would not return to the laugh floor at all, but would wriggle, bounce or slither to James P. Sullivan's office and take notice. And, in other alcoves the silent rumors about Randall and his exile went on. As the Medusa-like monster girl winded forwards along the stylized corridors, pieces of nasty words echoed into her ears. Those were indeed not directed towards her, but against the leaders of this factory.

"What is it that I hear the name 'Randall' more often than I should hear it?" she anxiously went on thinking. "There has to be a connection. Although Sulley Wully and Googly Bear were not sure about that has he somehow found his way back here, there has to be some kind of basis for that. All the awful gossip…" Abruptly Celia stopped her ongoing. Solely she resembled a big idea bulb right now, since she had suddenly recalled one interesting little detail. _Who had started the rumors? Who had begun at the first place to denigrate everyone's favorite monster fellows? There it was, the source of this all –or so the woman thought- right at the end of this alley, soon turning behind a corner. This gorgon, pushing a trolly trolley, had been a quite visible spook lately. With his three legs he hobbled forwards, aiming towards the destination. At the moment, the receptionist was entering a hallway where not a single other behemoth was present, except she and that eye target._

"Isn't that Trent Oogabooga? Hmm…" the lithe girl pressed quickly herself nearly flat against the wall. Thus she hindered the man possibly from seeing her. He walked ahead back against her, with a good speed, pushing furthermore the narky flivver.

"Didn't _he begin to say all those cruel things against my friends?" she pouted silently, "I'm definitely positive about that! He was the one! But where is he going? I don't think I've ever seen him on the laugh floor, either seen him going to a particular office…" Other petite pieces of intriguing information found their ways to her brain-synapses. "He is always pushing that food carriage. But he __never serves anyone, actually. __To whom is he bringing all that diesel coffee and those high-octane candy bars?" And __where is he really going?"_

This was Celia's chance to play a secret agent. Resolutely she understood that this grey, spotted hobgoblin might take her to the right trails. There was undeniably something fishy with Oogabooga.

"I'll follow him! That's it! I'll find out myself, if he has something to hide."

It was decided. The woman would pursue Trent, whatever it would take. Carefully, without producing a sound, she squirmed along the wall, keeping her pose as small and invisible as possible. The halls only continued and continued, the climate somehow turning more oppressive. The sign of Z-wing had vanished behind the turn, and the cat-mouse scene continued. Indeed, Randall's henchman was directing his tiptoeing towards the 'secret laboratory'. However, Boggs was not that stupid (although he had re-built the old hidden chambers), that he would have used the same old entrance behind the tool scaffold (it was bricked in). As for the villain's comeback, there needed to be a new postern.

One more dextroversion. And this alley was a perfect cul-de-sac. The only things there were, were some laugh energy bottles on the floor, with some miscellaneous old junk lying here and there. At the rear wall, was a large, orange Z-letter painted on the wall, circled with a sphere. Celia had to lie low now behind some containers, as Oogabooga had instantaneously begun to leer cautiously around him.

"Hope he didn't see me… but what on earth is he doing here? This is an impasse! Unless…" the girl peeked warily from behind the heap of energy bottles where she hid. Her ocular went wide as a truck tyre, as the following seconds went on. Trent was completely assured that there was no one noticing his commissions, and so he pushed the center of the izzard-painting, hitting an almost unseeable button with his finger. It blended so perfectly in the orange paint that only by observing the wing sing extremely close, some bugbear might have spotted it. And, as the lock was released, the whole wall began to creak low. The round figure, where that letter was illustrated, was cut in two halves, opening a black hole in the wall. Randall's henchman took up a flashlight from among the foods, and switched it on. Thus he disappeared in the surreptitious doorway, closing then the entrance behind him.

"…Unless there IS really a secret door! And there is!" Celia continued her interrupted sentence. "I should get Mike here, but there's no time… no, I have to go in, and now. I miss the tracks, if I don't follow him", she deliberated for a nanosecond, but then rose up and skulked at the rear wall. Now, as she knew the placing of the clutch, it was a piece of mudcake to re-unlatch the gate. The Z broke into two halves, and there the round dark gap was again. Its inners resembled a vent shaft, although such in a large scale that even a rotund blob would have fit in. Scary and frightening it was, but she once wanted to be a brave female. So, one breathe of courage and she treaded in. And bang! The hatch dashed close behind her. It became sackcloth dark.

"Oh, great, now I excelled myself in stupidity. Of course I should have had some kind of light with me", she snorted to herself annoyed. "If I was dragon species, I could illuminate my way with my exhales. But of course in the trickiest situation I find that I'm not a member of that family."

But there were not many options available. By feeling about the metallic wall, she forced herself to move on in the blackness. Any longer she could not jump away from there, since in this artificial night the girl could have not even dreamed to find a reverse opener very rapidly.

Some time went on. Nervousness had crept back to Celia's mind. The route seemed to be eternally long. At times, she thought to hear faint noises echoing from somewhere. However, no direction for them could be determined. The haunting blurry chimes could have come from anywhere, maybe from this tube, or then from the friendly scarecrow world dimension beyond there. The tiny hair snakes she had, had began to hiss fearfully, as if foreseeing something spiteful.

"Shht, girls." The hostess whispered. "I can't fulfill my mission, if you don't keep it quiet now." The cold iron-alloy wall went on under her left palm. Trent or his flashlight was nowhere in sight. The shaft where she rambled, receded somewhat and also it felt a bit slippery. But that was not the all. Abruptly she hit her forehead against something hard.

"Ouououououuu! Hisss!" the snakes moaned.

"Shht! I was the one here who got hurt more than you!" the bogey scolded her hair. What was there hindering her way now? As she fumbled there in the complete dimness, she grasped that there was a solid wall ahead. Another stalemate, that is.

"Oh, wonderful. Did I succeed to get lost in here?" she puffed tempered. But no, that could not be possible. She had followed straight the way where that rumor-teller had wriggled. It had to mean that here was another door. The courageous woman would only need to find a knob. With her little hand she again touched back and forth the wall, and bingo. There was a round handle-type thing on the right side, although nearly on the floor level. What was behind it, would stay as future's worries.

"Phew… hakuna matata, this is it. Got to get out of here." Thus she twisted the unlocking object, letting the second slit squeak open. Yellow light flooded in from the crack. Gingerly Celia peered in, but did not observe any movement around. Not a soul was in sight, but some kind of clatter was heard at some distance. It had to be that gray eyeball pushing his trolley.

"I'm going in and no complaints from you!" the monster one last time whispered to her locks. Hence she slid her legs on the other side, and entered a machinery-room type space. This was perfectly the same shady chamber where Randall had kept his hideout at the times of the scare power. Nevertheless, this girl had never visited this place before. So it was utterly an unknown area for her. And although she banged it in her head all the time that she possessed the bravery, there was the angsty mood present. It did not feel quite nice for a fragile receptionist to spy some assumed villains.

Peeking from behind a large heating device Celia now rediscovered Trent. Wrinkling her brow she astonished what was that MI worker actually doing. He arranged the foods and goods onto a metallic table, where were some seats arranged around it. And behind it, in the dim rear, where heaps of laugh energy bottles, seemingly empty ones. But they did not actually resemble the common yellow ones that were in use of the amusement job. The lass noted that there was put a red extension to the other end of those. Also, as if to 'reshape' the containers for further evil use, there was painted the common 'toxic' sign on them, namely a scull with two bones crossed under it.

"But that's horrible! Who wants to daub good energy storage bottles like that?" she thought timidly. "But, my assumptions were right. Trent Oogabooga is having his fingers in some wicked plotting. And someone else is also lurking here, obviously Randall Boggs. I gotta go back and tell Mike and…" But her brainwork was foully cut short. Celia was about to turn around and tap back to the secret door, but… she almost collided with the menace himself, Mister Boggs. He had already for a long time stood behind her, although in the invisible form.

"Eek!" she gave an alarmed yelp, as she met his squinty, arrogant eyes right in front of her.

"Well well, what have we got here? Isn't it Mr. Green Goblin's little _Smoopsiepoo?" the lizard slyly smiled._

"You! So you are behind this!" she spat back angrily. "You're the one who has been sabotaging the laugh floor and… AGH!" the female gave an exclamation of hurt. The purple foe had in a bolt slinked behind her, and arrested her hands behind her back with a firm grip.

"Good guess, if I may say. But the winds of change will blow upon this factory, and we will be turning to the existence we were made to be at the first place. That is, no hair balls in the leadership and no stupid titters hailing flower power…"

The shocked Celia writhed in the arresting clutch, now almost muddled. She could have possibly not expected that someone was spying the spy who was spying the henchman. And compared to this frail female, the lizard boy had so much power that it would not be quite easy to fight oneself free. Celia's snakes tried to bite the nemesis, but in vain. He could keep his distance.

"Quick-tempered, are we? That's what I've always liked in you." Randall chuckled back. "Curious, pretty and hot-headed. Not bad, not bad. But, now I suggest you join our little lunch here with this brainless minion of mine, and we'll see, if we can find a compromise."

"Compromise? WHAT? You let me go, you disgusting m…" the girl squealed.

"Disgusting what? Disgusting _monster? Mm, I like the sound of that. I __am a monster and I'm proud of it. Also, I try to act like one, unlike those circus fools on that idiotic giggle ground, or whatever…" he mumbled, "But, now would you come and sit here?" Boggs began to drag her towards the table. Trent goggled there confused at the show, he had had no clue about external visitors. And before the baffled receptionist had the time to utter a syllable, the evil violet creature had tied her tight in an old rusty chair._

Shaking off some dust from his hands, Boggs went to sit in another seat opposite to Celia. The detained female had just comprehended her new state, but Randall already went on with his speech.

"Now there, missy… I'm offering you an opportunity to cooperate with me, because I happen to like you. You got the right spirit, but it only needs to be directed to the right grooves", he grinned smugly, rubbing his fingers together.

Fury reddened again her face. Spitting out her opinion clearly enough, she barked, "Oh so you happen to like _me? Well I never have liked your slimy appearance and schemes, so be sure that I'll not be part of your whatever-disgusts. And what is going on here? Weren't you supposed to be in the human world?"_

"Mmm… yes, I was… but always the clouds change, the whistle blows, the stream of time flows forwards… I have simply come back to alter the ongoing events, since they do not please me." The chameleon rose up from his seat, beginning to walk slowly across the dusty floor. Of course Celia's words did irritate him, but this bugbear was sure, that he could change her mind and snakes as some diurnals would go on. "We're getting a new leadership soon to Monsters Incorporated. I will be returning to my glory, and so will the monstrosities rejoice…" an enthusiastic turn was done back to the girl, "…With scream energy. That's the only and pure thing that will roll this enterprise to its former supremacy."

"You must be completely insane. Everyone knows laugh energy is ten times more powerful than scream energy", she shook her head in disbelief. "Oh, yes, now I'm fully assured that there has never been anything right in your head."

"Hmmhehehe. Not so fast, tootsie. You see, with little engineering and intuitivism an intelligent person like me can get everything work. If my _scream extractor was not a success, I have now something better in pocket."_

Celia watched befogged as the energetic lizard picked up one of those noveau-looking energy bottles from the floor. He turned it over for some seconds in his three-fingered hands, then went on with his visionary lecture.

"See this container? This is my creation, Project 626, aka _Scream-o-vision. This red small part on the other side of the bottle contains an ac voltage circuit with some simple amplifiers and transistors connected to each other. It all is based on the amplifying of an analog signal. Hmh, good that I once was diligent enough to study advanced physics and electronics in the Gremlin Tech University of Bogybridge. However… if you would have ever decided to peek at a natural science book instead of thinking about what nail polish matches up with your skirt, you could have read that every signal has a certain frequency. So do screams and laughters. And, I have invented how to boost up the scream frequency, so that this form of energy becomes even more powerful than this senseless teeheehee."_

Celia stared at him her eye wide open. So this evil engineering master had planned something like this?

"You're even crazier than I thought", she gasped, "Do you seriously think you could get the workers of MI to work as SCARERS again? They love their jobs, the ones they have now! You…"

"Hm-hm-hm. Maybe I overvalued your intelligence. Of course, hanging around with that green hollowhead zombie does not increase anyone's ability to produce sensible ideas. I give you a tip: your IQ will rise noticeably up when you agree to work with me. That will also take those ropes off. Yet, where was I…" Boggs narrowed his eyes, fingering his chin. "Ah, indeed. How to get the workers on my side? Well, practically they ARE already on my side. My propaganda has worked well. And those nice sabotages have been the last bubbles in their baths. Such simple-minded folks… they are easily bent to work for me. I was once supposed to be the follower of the old Waternoose, be the top scarer, and now I'm only turning the history back to what it should have been from the beginning on. And… I think I will find tens of voluntary persons to _take care of those morons in the management…"_

"No! You can't do that, you…" an opposing yelp reached his ears.

"Oh yes I can! I just turn my thumb down like this…" the enemy at first pointed with his thumb towards the ceiling, then slowly directed it towards the floor. "And every fool will be swept away." Traipsing near the girl, Randall smirked, "I think we have currently the time when a brilliant speech needs to be concluded with an evil cackle." Hissing at the present so low that only she heard, he chuckled, "See, stupid henchmen always expect their masters to laugh evilly." Again, the tone was put more audible. "So, let's conclude it with an evil cackle, gheheheheheh. Now, just watch and learn, how I take the strings and _be the puppet master."         _

…to be continued…


End file.
